


You & I

by OneDLicious



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Fluff, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mild Kink, Smut, Smut and Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 21:16:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneDLicious/pseuds/OneDLicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Okay,” Zayn answers the unspoken question, and he’s not sure if he’s just agreed to sex or if he’s agreed to having a child, and the look in Niall’s eyes says he’s just as uncertain about what the original question had been, but for now, they’re going to use sex as the answer because it’s all they can do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You & I

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** zayn and niall babysitting theo and it makes them broody. they have sex when the baby falls asleep and they have to be quiet so they won’t wake him. bottom niall pls.

       When they were asked to babysit, Niall had seemed far more excited at the prospect than Zayn – frankly, the elder male had looked a little nervous. But now that they’re sitting in their living room, Zayn on the floor with his back to the sofa and Niall between his legs with his back to Zayn’s chest, and the little bundle of joy is in their arms, neither of them can get the goofy grins off of their faces. Theo is at the age where he can pick up on most everything that the adults are trying to tell him, but his replies are in broken English and baby talk; however, the fact that he can’t talk properly has not put him off at all. The kid babbles even more than Niall does, and that’s saying something, in Zayn’s opinion. Though, of course, the raven haired male loves to hear his boyfriend-of-two-years get excited over things and talk his ear off, he just has to pretend to tease him about it, like how Niall’s always teasing him for being too quiet. They’re in love, it’s clear for anyone to see, but they’re still best-friends as well as boyfriends and they always will be, it’s the very foundation of their relationship and it’s worked perfectly well for them this far.

        “Do you think it’s time t’ feed the little tyke?” Zayn asks, speaking against Niall’s ear as the blond haired boy plays with his Nephew’s little hands, both of them letting out near identical giggles. If asked, Theo looks more like Niall’s Son than his Nephew, though Zayn is trying to ignore that little fact because it gives him ideas and thoughts that he’s not entirely sure he’s comfortable with. They’ve never discussed the idea of having children, not really, and he’s a little afraid to broach the subject. Though the Irish boy appears to have taken to babysitting like a duck to water – not that Zayn had ever doubted he would.

       “I dunno,” Niall shrugs between coos to the little boy in question. “Why don’ yer ask ‘im? ‘M sure ‘e knows when ‘e’s hungry and when he ain’t,” it’s not said unkindly, it’s said proudly, as though Niall wants to show off just how intelligent the toddler is and all that he can do. Zayn hides his grin against the nape of his boyfriend’s neck, pressing a tender kiss there and nodding a little.

       “Theo, would you like some food?” he asks over Niall’s shoulder, earning a pair of doe eyes to focus on him. The baby doesn’t even think twice before nodding and beginning to clap his hands – he has his Uncle’s appetite, that’s for sure.

       “Fooooood!” the smaller blond cheers, chubby hands still moving together as he squirms and looks at them both expectantly. This is when Zayn realises he has no idea what babies eat… he knows that new-borns drink milk, but he’s never looked after anyone Theo’s age and his knowledge of child development is admittedly poor. He looks to Niall, who again just gives a shrug of his shoulders – he’s equally clueless, but not half as nervous about all this as Zayn. He’s by far the more relaxed of the two when it comes to nerve-wracking situations. 

       “I t’ink ‘e’s old enough t’ have proper food?” it’s a question, not a statement of fact, but it’s the only contribution he gives, so once again Zayn is left to ask the baby himself for guidance.

       “Theo, d’you like sandwiches?” he has a hopeful tone, because he’s the first to confess that he’s not the best cook in the world, and this is something simple he could make without much damage. He almost lets out his own matching cheer as Theo begins to nod and clap again, a word that sounds very close to ‘CHEESE!’ coming through his toothy grin. Zayn chuckles, ruffling the blonde curls on the toddler’s head before shifting his weight behind Niall and getting to his feet. “You want one too, love?” he asks his boyfriend as he heads into the adjoining kitchen and straight over to the fridge.

       “Please!” yeah right, like Niall was ever going to turn down food? Zayn rolls his eyes to himself, the same fond grin on his lips that’s always there when he’s thinking about the Irish boy. He finds the cheese, butter, lettuce and some tomatoes from the refrigerator, figuring it’s best to at least attempt to add some goodness to the meal, and carries said products over to the counter where he begins to slice and dice. He butters six slices of bread, adding the filling to make 3 sandwiches which he cuts in halves for he and Niall, and quarters for Theo. He only bothers with one plate to share between them, because the likelihood is that the more fragile material they have around the toddler, the more likely something is going to break – and with that in mind, he decides that giving them each a juice box would be more efficient as a drink than an actual glass of anything. When the little boy sees the juice box, his eyes widen and light up almost comically, and it’s clear that Zayn is onto a winner there, giving a shit-eating grin as he sits down beside Niall and the smaller blond.

        “T’anks babe,” Niall smiles, taking both his own and Theo’s juice box from Zayn, putting the straw into his Nephew’s for him before handing it over. The slurping that ensues is so noisy and adorable that it has Niall giggling again, and those thoughts are back in Zayn’s head and this time he finds it harder to shake them off, a weird tight ache forming in his chest – it’s akin to the feeling he gets when he’s missing Niall after being apart for too long, like there’s a Niall shaped hole that needs to be filled… except, he’s starting to suspect that this whole is Theo shaped, or at the very least, baby shaped... “Yer alright?” Niall’s voice breaks through his reverie, and he finds himself clearing his throat and giving an almost guilty smile, like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

       “I’m fine,” he assures him, picking up one half of his sandwich to busy himself with as he begins to eat. Though by the time they’ve finished their lunch, he’s sure that Theo is only being this cute to get at him – no human child can be this adorable, it’s just not possible. He munches on his food with such a content little grin, often forgetting to close his mouth, though he really tries to because his Daddy says it’s rude not to, and he never forgets his pleases and thank yous. He’s like Niall, but compressed into a mini version and how could Zayn not fall in love with that?

       “Fank ‘oo!” Theo remembers to add as he finishes as much of his food as he can manage – he’s eaten three of the pieces Zayn gave to him, and for a little boy that seems like an awful lot. And judging by the way he keeps fidgeting now, occasionally rubbing at his eyes, Zayn thinks it’s safe to say it’s almost time for his afternoon nap. Niall has begun to rock him gently, resting Theo’s head against the crook of his neck as he hums quietly. The smaller blond lets out a big yawn, curling his arms up around his Uncle’s neck and nuzzling against him as he begins to settle.

       Zayn gives a small smile, gathering up the leftovers, the plate and the rubbish from their meal and carrying it into the kitchen. By the time he gets back, Theo is already fast asleep and Niall is on his feet, gesturing with his head for the elder to follow him, which he dutifully complies with, trailing behind them as the younger carries Theo into the spare room. He lays his small form upon the bed, and together they tuck him in and give the toddler a small kiss to the forehead, careful not to wake him. Once they’re sure he’s settled, they turn to leave the room, leaving the door open just a crack in case Theo wakes up and gets scared of the strange surroundings – they’ll have to remember to purchase a baby monitor for the future, Zayn thinks, and makes the excuse that it’ll be for if they babysit again in the future. And now he knows he’s really screwed, so far into denial that he’s making up lies in his own head.

        The dark haired male gives his boyfriend a questioning glance, having felt Niall’s hand slide into his own and tug him in the opposite direction to the living room. The blond refuses to catch Zayn’s eyes, as though shy or trying to hide something, all but dragging him into their bedroom where he attempts to shut the door, but Zayn has to step in the way and shake his head.

       “We won’t hear Theo if we shut it…” he notices the slight flush on Niall’s cheeks now that he’s looking at him head on, how the usually bright blue eyes are darker from how dilated his pupils are, and the way he’s worrying he lower lip between his teeth, and suddenly realisation hits and Zayn realises just what they’re doing in the bedroom. “We… We can’t… Theo’s… he’s right-…” he’s cut off by Niall’s lips as the younger practically throws himself at him, arms locking like a vice around Zayn’s neck – not that the elder is even trying to pull away from the painfully hard kiss.  

        “P-please? I need… I need…” Niall has a pleading, almost lost, tone. He looks confused, as though he isn’t sure what he wants and that the only thing he knows for sure is that he wants _this._ And for a moment, Zayn can completely understand, can relate, because he’s been feeling just as conflicted since the moment he realised that having a baby around fit them like a missing piece to their puzzle – a piece that neither had even known was needed. But now it had been shown to them, it was like a big, neon sign that was flashing above their heads, and neither were handling it well. Though, Niall’s solution of fucking the rush of hormones away seemed much more practical than Zayn’s attempts at pure denial.

       “Okay,” Zayn answers the unspoken question, and he’s not sure if he’s just agreed to sex or if he’s agreed to having a child, and the look in Niall’s eyes says he’s just as uncertain about what the original question had been, but for now, they’re going to use sex as the answer because it’s all they can do.

       They stare at each other for a few more, fleeting moments, and neither is sure who makes the first move but suddenly Niall’s hands are fisted in Zayn’s hair, their lips crushing together again as the elder lifts his boyfriend by the hips and carries him over to the bed. He sits down, Niall straddling his lap as he licks into his mouth, tasting the remnants of the sweet juice they’d both drunk and giving a soft groan – Niall had always been his favourite flavour, but right now his kisses taste sweeter than ever and in a bittersweet way, they remind him of the one thing they’re both trying to ignore – a child.

        They pull apart just long enough to discard their shirts into a pile upon the floor, before Niall’s clawing softly at Zayn’s tattooed chest and the elder is laying down with his boyfriend still straddling him. The blond bit down upon the other’s lower lip, tugging it into his mouth and earning a broken moan – Zayn has always loved biting, and Niall is one of the very few people to know that. He arches his hips up so that their clothed arousals are brushing together, his hands finding their place on Niall’s hips and his thumbs fitting perfectly beneath the bone there to get a firmer grip. He helps to lead Niall’s movements, the younger too lost in their kiss to notice much else, and both are already feeling breathless, skins flushed and eyes glazing over from lust.

       The Irish boy gives a whimper, his hot breath mingling against Zayn’s and caressing at their heated skin as Zayn manages to align their erections perfectly in the way that causes just enough friction – but they have too many clothes on still, in Niall’s opinion, and his noises are becoming more and more needy as the seconds tick by until he eventually tears himself away to fiddle with the button of his jeans. Zayn is tugging his own down, arching off the bed with Niall still above him as he kicks them off, and now they’re both in nothing but boxers and he can feel his lover’s blue eyes raking over every inch of his body.

       He shifts up the bed, sitting against the head board as Niall kneels over him, and this time when they begin to rut together, they can feel _everything,_ a small wet patch showing clearly through the younger’s dark boxers from just how aroused he feels.

“O-oh God…” he gasps as Zayn pulls his hips down harder, their movements together getting more desperate, speeding up until both of them have beads of sweat on their foreheads and rolling down their spines, dampening Niall’s blond hair and making it appear a little darker. His eyes are shut tight, but Zayn’s are still open, watching every wave of pleasure play out on his lover’s features until he can’t take it any longer, the urge to bury himself deep within the other’s tight heat becoming too much to handle. He removes one hand from Niall’s hips, reaching blindly under their pillow where they keep the small bottle of lube – with a relationship like theirs, it’s always best to be prepared. His fingers brush against it, managing to grasp hold of it, pulling it out as he feels Niall slipping off both their boxers and once again their eyes feet, this time causing Zayn’s heart to skip beats.

       He’s about to open the bottle when it’s snatched from his grip, looking up in time to see a cheeky smile cross over Niall’s lips, the younger opening the bottle instead and beginning to spread a generous helping over three fingers. He’s got Zayn’s full attention now, not that he ever doesn’t, and his dark orbs are watching with avid interest as Niall reaches beneath himself, lips forming a perfect ‘O’ as he slides a single digit inside of himself, making a show of it all especially for his boyfriend. Zayn’s hands are on the other’s behind, massaging and squeezing at his round cheeks as he watches, helping to spread Niall apart as he fucks his own finger into his tight little pucker, making the dirtiest little noises that Zayn’s ever heard and he’s sure he’s about to come undone just from this little performance.

       When the second finger is buried deep inside of Niall, he begins to rock his hips again so that their erections are moving together as he rides his own digits, and now they’re both about to lose it, Zayn having to drop his hands and fist at the duvet beneath himself to keep from exploding. Niall’s panting, scissoring the two fingers within him and knowing he’s never going to make it to three – instead, he slips them out of his stretched heat and slicks up his palm, reaching down and wrapping his hand around his boyfriend’s girth. He begins to fist at his length at a similar speed to what their hips had been moving, making sure he’s coated in enough lubricant to not make it painful.

       “W-we need… need t’ be quiet…” Zayn pants as Niall works his member so skilfully with his calloused hands, thumb swiping off beads of precome from the sensitive head of his cock and making his hips jerk up. He has to bury his face in the pillow by his head to muffle the groan of pleasure he was about to give, knowing it would have torn through the house and caught Theo’s attention. Niall nods in response, biting down on his already swollen lip to try and keep quiet – he’s always been very vocal in bed, something Zayn finds indescribably hot, but today it’s going to be problematic. “Lay on your belly, babe… you can use the pillow,” he gets the idea from what he, himself, has just done and hopes it’ll be enough to work as a sound barrier.

       This time when Niall nods it’s far more eagerly, rolling off of Zayn and onto his belly like instructed, thighs spread to make access easier. His face is resting sideways on the pillow for now, panting heavily as he tries to look over his shoulder to watch his boyfriend getting into position. Zayn’s eyes are feasting on the sight laid out before him and he can’t seem to focus on anything but the way Niall’s whole body is heaving with his ragged breaths, or the fact that his tight little hole is winking and twitching with arousal, desperate to be filled.

       He moves between the younger’s legs, leaning down to nip at his lover’s neck as he firmly grasps his own cock and lines them up. He can taste the other on his tongue, can smell his sweet scent and it’s enough to have him thrusting in harder and faster than he intended, but Niall is far from complaining. That burn, the stretch and fullness is exactly what he’s been craving, having to bite down on the pillow to hold in a scream of pleasure, because honestly, he would have been loud enough to wake the _neighbours,_ let alone the toddler only a room away.

       Zayn’s face is pressed against the crook of the blond’s neck in an attempt to keep from making any noise himself, pushing in until he’s fully seated and can feel the other clenching around him. He waits, trying to give the younger some time to adjust but Niall is already squirming and making needy noises once again – he wants Zayn to _fuck_ him, and he wants it to be _hard_ and _fast._ The elder quickly gets the message, moving his hips back so he’s drawn almost fully out, before dropping his weight back down and plunging forward so deep that their skin slaps together.

       As the dark haired male begins to repeat the same movements, picking up a shaky pace, Niall has begun to claw at the duvet beneath him, filthy curses and cries getting lost in the material smothering his face. Zayn’s hands are resting either side of his boyfriend’s head, supporting his weight as he rolls his hips into the other in a way that has them both shuddering, Niall writhing beneath him like he can’t get enough. Zayn begins to pick up speed, thrusting his hips down hard enough to make the springs of the mattress squeak, along with the younger boy who is gulping for air by now, almost suffocating from how much he’s having to press his face into the pillow.

       Each thrust is pushing Niall further down into the bed, his solid cock brushing against the material in a way that makes him whimper, unsure of whether to push back against Zayn to get him in deeper, or to rut down against the amazing sensation the duvet is giving to his neglected length, and it’s driving him insane, torn and desperate for anything he can get. He digs his feet into the backs of his boyfriend’s legs in an attempt to get him closer, impossibly deeper, toes curling and a startled cry piercing the air as his prostate is brushed. Zayn growls, lifting one hand and fisting it into Niall’s hair, forcing his head so far into the pillow that Niall can’t breathe, but he doesn’t care because Zayn is still hitting his sweet spot dead on and his head’s beginning to spin.

        With what little control he still has left of his body, he begins to hump the bed beneath him, his erection swollen and leaking onto the sheets as he keeps going. His skin is flushed, a glorious red glow that Zayn is barely having the chance to register because all of his senses are in a frenzy, his hips picking up a speed of their own as they both race toward the finish line, and it’s a tie of who’s going to come first because they’re both so close that even without the pillow, neither can draw air into their lungs.

      Zayn gives a few punishing thrusts, the strength of which is hard enough to have the headboard hitting against the wall before he buries himself as deep as he can get into his boyfriend and lets out a strangled moan, overcome by the white hot arousal pulsing through his body with the pounding of his heart, and he’s spilling his hot seed into his lover, hips jerking and body shuddering from the intensity of his orgasm.

         And Niall still can’t breathe, no air is getting to his lungs and his head is swimming so much that the little of his vision he can see past the pillow is beginning to blur. And he’s going to pass out, he should be scared, but the pleasure is too much and all coherent thoughts have left him as he keeps rocking himself onto Zayn’s spent cock, his own still dragging against the bed sheets until he can’t take it anymore. His whole body tenses, his fists so tight that the knuckles are white, and something deep within him snaps, like an elastic band that’s been pulled too taut and suddenly released, and just like that his own come is spurting from his painfully hard erection, sticky and warm as it soils their bedding and his own belly. His body is shaking, trembling and his eyes are squeezed tight, the orgasm being the best of his life – which is saying something, because he and Zayn have a very healthy love of sex. But he’s never felt anything like this before, and he knows Zayn has let go of his head, he knows he can breathe clearly again, but it’s not even registering, nothing is registering in the fog of his mind other than the fact he’s still riding wave after wave of pleasure. He’s wrecked, his whole body a heaped, pathetic mess and all of his limbs are like jelly – he can’t even lift his arms to move himself away from the sticky residue he’s coated the duvet in, but he can’t bring himself to care.

      Somewhere in the back of his mind he feels Zayn rolling them over, wrapping him up into his arms and their sweat slickened skin moving together as they gasp for breath, blood pounding and gushing in their ears so loudly that it’s deafening. Zayn begins to press gentle kisses over his boyfriend’s heated skin, trying not to smirk at the lost expression on Niall’s face. The younger’s eyes are fully glazed over, his jaw slack and his thighs are still trembling every so often, little whimpers breaking the otherwise silent room.

       “Oh… o-oh my f-f-fucking G-god…” the blond manages to croak finally, clearly starting to come round as his blue eyes blink up at the elder, who’s stifling laughter at his lover’s shocked, almost innocent expression. “That… wow… that was…”

       “Wow?” Zayn not-so-helpfully supplies the word, snickering a little as he kisses Niall’s damp forehead, feeling the younger nod against him. “I love you, so much,” he mumbles in a much softer voice, the adoration for his boyfriend shining through clear in his eyes. They curl up together, Niall’s head resting more on his chest now that he’s finally coming down from his high. He makes a hum of approval, too exhausted to reply but they both know he feels the same. “I love you, and I want to have a baby with you,” Zayn continues, burying his face into Niall’s blond locks.

       He knows it’ll be a long process, he knows adoption is hard work and he knows it’ll be a strain on their relationship, but he wants it and he knows Niall does too, and if he’s sure of anything, it’s that they can make it together. Together they’ll figure it out, because they’re in love and they’re best-friends, and who could ask for more than that? Niall is his soul-mate, his world, but he’s ready to share him with a child they can call their own, start a family, because there’s no doubt in his mind that his boyfriend is going to make an amazing parent, and that their baby will be the most loved and adored in the world.  

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it :)


End file.
